


Can I Get an Amen?

by themarginalartist



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: F/M, It will get spicy later, Yes this is one of those character x readers, mature is not a joke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2019-10-06 14:51:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themarginalartist/pseuds/themarginalartist
Summary: You heard the rumors for a long time, eventually curiosity winning over and you decide to pay a visit to Joey Drew Studios yourself. Quickly realizing you aren't getting out so easily, and in the company of strange creatures, is there a possibility there could be something for you in the darkness?





	1. Chapter 1

You couldn’t help yourself, the stories of the now abandoned studio had driven you to go and visit it. Besides, you’d always been curious of what had happened to the old animation studio. In its heyday a place of magic and imagination, but now it was abandoned and decrepit. A place of broken dreams.   
  
Standing imposing above you as you stood at the front door. The boarded windows and broken glass making for a terrifying image. “Come on, [Name]. Get it together. Just a quick look around and then you’ll go home. It’s probably just some kids telling each other scary stories.” You try and psych yourself up. Your hand grips the handle and you twist it, slowly stepping into the darkened building.    
  
What you didn’t expect was that your second step would be into air as you fall into a massive chasm. A two story fall later you stare up at the hole, a small bit of light and ink coming down through it. Standing up and brushing yourself off you don’t see another way out, the only direction to go is down. “Well fuck…” You sigh, trudging ahead into the darkness.    
  
Eventually after a bit of wading through the ink, every creak of the floorboards making you jump a bit, you find yourself staring at a pentagram on the floor, coffins along the wall of the room. “Shit… This is bad…” You mutter under your breath. Heading out through the door you find yourself going down further, you really wish you had something you could swing now.    
  
At the bottom of the stairs you pause. An altar in front of you with lit candles, you frown, there’s no way those should be here, least of all lit. You turn and find another set of candles and what looks to be a tape recorder. “Huh…” You gently turn it over in your hands, pressing the play button after a moment. 

"He appears from the shadows to rain his sweet blessings upon me. The figure of ink that shines in the darkness. I see you, my savior. I pray you hear me. Those old songs, yes, I still sing them. For I know you are coming to save me. And I will be swept into your final loving embrace. But, love requires sacrifice. Can I get an amen?" You shiver at the sound of his voice, it sending tingles down your spine.  _ ‘Fuck, I shouldn’t be enjoying that!’ _ You internally berate yourself. “I said, can I get an amen?” You hear near your ear causing you to inhale sharply and whip around. No one else is there however.    
  
“What the fuck…” You mumble. Curious of finding out who the voice belonged to you pop the tape out, finding it labeled ‘Sammy Lawrence’. “...Sammy you have one smooth voice.” You mutter, blushing slightly realizing you said it out loud. Putting the tape and player back where you found it you start looking around again, trying not to think too much about the coffins that are sitting in the room with you.    
  
The hallway of ink makes you pause, not necessarily wanting to get more of the sticky black substance on your body. “Shit… There’s no way around it…” You frown, deciding it wasn’t worth taking anything off and sludging through the ink. It’s terrible, the ink squelching between your toes as you move forwards, feeling far too thick to the touch. About halfway down the hall you freeze as you hear someone talking. Pushing yourself against the wall you watch in horror as what appears to be a person made of ink walks past the end of the hall.    
  
"Sheep, sheep, sheep, it's time for sleep. Rest your head. It's time for bed. In the morning you may wake or in the morning you'll be dead." You realize you’d just heard that same voice, once again causing you to feel a shiver through your body. Sammy Lawrence, now made of ink, what the hell was going on in this studio?    
  
Finally shaking off your momentary paralysis, you shakily step forward, trying to see where Sammy had walked off to, only to find a dead end. “Where’d he-” You turn around, trying to figure out if it was a trick, but no sign of him remains. You rub your shoulder, dread and curiosity only growing by the second.    
  
You quickly solve the gate puzzle, moving on into the music department, somber and dark as you move into it. “There’s gotta be a light switch somewhere, you turn and spot a staircase, hope immediately dashed as you see that it’s flooded with ink. “Well that’s fucking great…” You sigh, flicking the switch on the wall. You jump at the lights turning on and the music starting up. Stepping forwards a bit you only get a few steps forward when one of the ink puddles on the floor suddenly bubbles up and shifts into something that looked to be human once.    
  
“Stay back!” You shout, backing up as it moans towards you, your back hitting the wall as you panic looking for anything that you could grab. With no such luck you try to sprint past it but more come up from the floor, tripping you and causing you to fall to the floor. “Let go! Please!” You beg as tears start springing to your eyes, none of this is what you were expecting. Ink slowly tries to swallow you as they cover your body.    
  
“That is enough my sheep.” You hear the same voice that sounded so close to your ear before command the creatures to stop. Slowly the ink recedes, ink splattered pants standing in front of you. You inhale sharply, not noticing you’d been holding your breath. “Now… What is this lost little sheep doing in our domain…” He bends down, lifting your chin, his finger feeling cold but solid as he tilts your head back. “Hmm… Possibly a decent sacrifice for the lord.” He mutters to himself. Being able to see him clearly and not from the end of the hall you feel as if the mask he wears is staring into your soul.    
  
“S-Sacrifice?” You stutter, internally cursing yourself for entering the studio in the first place.    
  
“Yes little sheep, our lord must be appeased…” He leans in closer, “But… I must ask, why would you wander to this pasture?” He questions.   
  
“I’m not a sheep, and I came to this studio because I wanted to see if the rumors were true…” You huff, not sure where this confidence is coming from.    
  
He lets your chin go, standing back up. “I am the shepherd and prophet, all who are in my domain are my sheep.” You couldn’t see it but you swear he was smiling below the mask. “And what rumors might those be?” He asks as you sit up, rubbing your eyes for a moment, trying to not let him see you had nearly cried.    
  
“There were some rumors of… Shadows in the windows…” You say quietly, “Noises that sounded unearthly and monsters lurking the halls. I- I thought it was all-” You stop as he takes a step forward, scooting away slightly.    
  
“Well… Monsters do lurk in the dark, but there are no monsters here.” He says softly. You almost want to trust him, his voice making you feel more secure. You have to shake your head.    
  
“I-I just want to go home, please…” You mumble, curling in on yourself. He dismisses the other creatures that still lingered, leaving only the two of you in the room.    
  
“Well… I’m afraid I can’t help you with that little sheep.” He sighs. “Once you entered this studio you were trapped here…” He turns his back. “Besides, you’ll join us once you are sacrificed to our lord.” He says.    
  
“No.” You frown, standing up. “I’m not going to be some sacrifice! I’m getting out of here.” You try to stay determined, nothing he says in that sultry voice of his-  _ ‘Sultry what the hell [Name]!’ _ you curse yourself, not noticing him come up to you until he’s only inches away. You gasp and back up, not realizing how close the wall is behind you, your back hitting it and stopping you as he looms over you.    
  
“I’m afraid you don’t get a say in this little sheep… You will either join us in a sacrifice or the ink will claim you.” He says, holding his chin between his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look up. “We don’t get a choice down here…” He lets go, leaning back slightly. You ignore your body trying to tell you to follow after him, wanting him to be close again. It was crazy, the man wasn’t even a man anymore.   
  
“How does the ink claim people?” You ask quietly, surprising yourself with the question. 

He seems a bit surprised too, “...It can be done in a number of ways… Some are more... pleasant than others.” He puts a hand out towards you, seeing if you will take it. You don’t necessarily trust it, but slowly yours enter his, it’s cool to the touch, but as your hand stays there it warms with your body heat.    
  
“I-I’m not going to if I can help it.” You tell him firmly, still afraid of what is to come. “I’m going to get out.”    
  
“...If you say so little sheep…” He says softly, a light chuckle in his voice as he gently leads you down the hallway. You can’t help but blush slightly, his chuckle creating butterflies in your stomach as you stare at the floor.    
  
“...I’m still not a sheep either…” You mutter under your breath, he doesn’t catch it as he leads you back towards an office space and down a staircase to an infirmary.    
  
“It’s a bit more, private down here.” He states, leading you to one of the beds. “None of the other sheep will interrupt us here.” You don’t respond to that, curling your knees under your chin. “...Stay here, rest…” He says softly. “You’ve been through a lot little sheep…” He pulls a blanket out of storage, passing it to you for you to take. You don’t, thinking over everything that’s happened in your brief time there so far. He sighs, placing it at the end of the bed and leaves you.    
  
As you sit there you find yourself become incredibly tired. Would it really hurt to rest your eyes for a little bit? Slowly, you uncurl yourself, unfolding the blanket and throwing it over yourself. ‘Just ten minutes, then I’ll look for an escape.’ You tell yourself as your head hits the pillow, sleep taking you not too long after. 

* * *

When you wake up it feels like you’ve been asleep for a long time, much longer than the ten minutes you’d told yourself before lying down. “How long was I asleep…” You mumble.    
  
“About five hours.” Sammy says standing at the end of your cot.    
  
“What the hell! Were you watching me!” You shout, pulling the blankets tight to your body. He doesn’t move for a moment before suddenly laughing, causing you to blush.    
  
“No little sheep, I was not, I promise. I came down only a few minutes ago to find you still asleep.” He chuckles a bit. You don’t relax your grip on the blanket. “Now, now little sheep, I promise nothing will happen to you while you remain in my domain.” He comes and sits on the edge of the other cot.    
  
“...How can I trust you? You’re one of those things…” You mutter.    
  
“Things? Ah you mean the searchers… No I am not one of them, they are mindless, simply doing my bidding to aid me in our lord’s work.”    
  
“Then what are you?” You find yourself asking.    
  
“...I am technically considered a lost one…” He says, turning his head away from you. “Once human, retaining sentience…”   
  
“...Why do you wear the mask?” Your curiosity is only growing, finding yourself wanting to know more about this place.    
  
“To show my lord my devotion.” He says as if it were obvious. You slowly get out of the bed and step closer to him, hand reaching out to hold onto his mask. You don’t get that far however. “I’m afraid I must stop you little sheep.” He says, tight grip around your wrist causing you to gasp, but not pull away. “You would not like what’s under there…”    


“...You don’t know that.” You surprise yourself, mostly it was out of curiosity that you wanted to find out, not anything else right? The doubt creeping into your thoughts makes you pause and stare at the floor, not sure what to say in the ensuing silence.    
  
“...Little sheep… What is your name?” He asks suddenly, somewhat startling you, never letting go of your wrist.    
  
“M-My name is [Name].” You don’t look up.    
  
“[Name]... Very fitting…” He says tracing your cheek. You want to bat his hand away but at the same time… It’s nice. “[Name]... My little sheep…” He pauses at that. “My little sheep…” Something about the way he says it sends a shiver through you.    
  
“...I-I’m not a sheep.” You pout. “I’m human. Not a sheep.”    
  
He laughs, pulling you in closer to him, forcing you into his lap. “But I am a shepherd, I must protect lost little sheep like you. Guide you…” He keeps his grip on you tight. “...Will you join us?” He asks.    
  
“I told you, I’m going home!” You struggle against him. You sense him frown, he uses his hands to still you, ink oozing around your skin.    
  
“Little sheep, I told you, you will not be leaving this place. You will either be sacrificed or join the ink. And I suggest you join the ink.” He hisses into your ear.  _ ‘Fuck…’ _ His voice caused another rush of shivers to run through you. He chuckles feeling you move. “Well, well, well… It seems this little sheep is a bit… sensitive.” He whispers into your ear.    
  
“S-stop it.” You growl, trying to get out of his grip.    
  
“What is the matter little sheep?” He chuckles, finally loosening his hold, you practically spring out of his lap and back to your cot.    
  
“You. You are the matter. Holding me against my will. Not even letting me see your face.” You growl, trying to cover up the butterflies that had returned. 

“I am not holding you against your will little sheep.” He says calmly. “And you don’t wish to see what is below this mask.” The last part a bit more forceful.    
  
“You are because you’re telling me to join the ink or be sacrificed and what if I do?” You frown at him.    
  
“You are free to roam my domain, but you shall not be leaving it.” He says. “And-”   
  
“Wait I’m allowed to roam but not leave? Sounds like being held against my will.” You can’t help the pettiness in your voice.    
  
He sighs, “Little sheep, there are far more dangerous things down below us, and there is not a path back up. It is for your own good that you stay in my domain.” He says a bit exasperated.    
  
“...What’s down there?”    
  
“Nothing good.” The seriousness of his tone makes you shiver. Suddenly your stomach growls, a laugh coming from him. “So the little sheep is hungry.” You sense his smirk, blushing and turning away from him. “I’ll see what is still decent for you to eat.” He chuckles and stands, leaving the room.    
  
_ ‘He does have quite a nice ass…’ _ You think, not stopping yourself in time. Your blush only growing darker. At least you didn’t say it out loud. You sit there annoyed with yourself for a while until he comes back, a can of soup and some crackers.    
  
“The crackers may be a little stale… But the soup is fine. It’s really the only edible thing down here…” He says as he comes over. “Unfortunately we don’t have a stove down here…” He seems awkward about it.    
  
“...It’s still food…” You sigh, deciding it’s better than nothing. Taking the soup and crackers from him. “...Do you at least have a spoon?” You ask, trying to joke a little.    
  
“I’ll see if I can find one…” He says, leaving you once again. You open up the crackers, giving them a sniff to make sure they aren’t entirely disgusting, surprisingly they smell somewhat fresh. Pulling one out you test it with the tip of your tongue, but it doesn’t really give you anything, with a small grimace you bite into the corner of the cracker. “...Plain… But edible.” You let out a relieved sigh.     
  
“I take it the crackers are fine, little sheep?” Sammy asks as he comes back in, spoon in hand.    
  
“Y-yeah, they are…” You give a small nod, “And again, I’m not a sheep!” You pout once more. 

“All who are in my pasture are my sheep, little sheep.” He reminds you with a huff, passing you the spoon. You are a little surprised when the ink doesn’t stick to it.

Quietly thanking him you open up the can, starting to eat the contents. It’s not the worst thing you’ve ever eaten, but it certainly could be better. You grimace as you eat it, eventually finishing the can of soup. You saved the crackers for after, not wanting the thing that tasted decent to be gone. “Well, hopefully that satisfies you for now.” He says, standing up. “I’ll be back in a little while. Do not leave the music department.” He says, tone serious.   
  
“Where are you going?”    
  
“I have a few… Errands I must take care of…” He says, not expanding further as he turns and leaves after that.    
  
“I’ll just… Stay here I guess…” You watch him go, not feeling like getting up just yet. Sitting on the cot for a bit you finally grow bored enough to attempt some exploration. Slowly climbing the stairs you poke your head out at the top, looking around making sure there are none of those searchers from before as you make your way down the hall.    
  
“It’s strange… How did the studio even end up like this?” You mutter to yourself as you walk around, poking your head into different doors and seeing what is behind them. You don’t find anything too interesting until you get into the main band room. The projector screen dark as you find the instruments sitting there. “...Almost as if the bad is going to come back…” You chuckle, plucking a string on the fiddle. “Still in tune too.”    
  
As you stand there it feels as if you are being watched, looking up you spot a cut out leaning against the railing on the other side of the projector booth. “...Those things are kinda creepy…” You mutter under your breath, deciding to head back to the infirmary, it suddenly didn’t feel safe to be alone, not that it ever had. Something more sinister was lurking and you didn’t want it to find you. Walking quickly back and hastily getting down the stairs you curl under the blanket in the cot. While you try not to, sleep eventually takes you once again. Darkness consuming you.  


	2. Chapter 2

Your dreams were filled with ink. It surrounded you, coated your skin, trying to pull you to it, making you want to be with it. There is a smile in the pitch black of the ink. You shoot upright, panting and trying to slow your heart that is pounding in your ears. At some point Sammy had come back, resting on the cot beside you, it seems like he’s asleep. 

Your eyes drift over his body, noticing how the ink still defines his muscles and- ‘Knock it off [Name]!’ You shake your head, trying not to let yourself think those things. He’s made of ink anyway and it was weird to even think of.    
  
Your eyes drift back to his mask, remembering his warning that you didn’t want to see what was under there, but you were still so curious. Unconsciously you step closer, hand reaching up slightly to grab the mask. You hesitate just as your fingers are about to brush the sides, pulling back slightly as he moves in his sleep, mask pushed slightly upwards as his chin rests on his chest. You reach forward again, hesitation replaced by curiosity as you grip the mask and gently pull it up.    
  
The first thing you notice is that you can still see the features of his face clearly. You’re able to tell where his nose, lips, and eyes all are even if they are all made of ink. You carefully lower the mask back down, stepping away from him as he shuffles in his sleep again, holding your breath in case it might wake him up. Luckily he stops moving once again. 

Looking around you see if you can find something to entertain yourself with, not wanting to return to the upper levels of the studio, still feeling as if something was watching and waiting for you up there. You notice a stairwell going down further below. With a last glance at Sammy you decide that it wouldn’t hurt to go exploring a bit. 

Sticking to the edge of the stairs since it will creak less you make your way down. You find a small storage area with another one of those cutouts, making you shiver slightly from its unblinking stare, going further you stare at the words painted in ink on the walls. “Down here we’re all sinners…” You mumble, getting more uncomfortable by the second. You almost turn back, almost. You keep moving and are surprised to see another searcher, backing up with a splash of ink you trip and fall into the luckily not deep stream. It doesn’t move. 

‘Shit… Why isn’t it moving?’ You stand up, eyes never leaving it. You notice, almost snorting in laughter, that it’s wearing a hat unlike the ones you saw previously. It gives a small moan. ‘It doesn’t seem to be attacking. Maybe it’s different?’ You cautiously scoot forward, edging closer and closer to it. It gives supposedly a curious look at you before diving below the ink, appearing again further down the hallway, right below more ink painted words reading out ‘The sheep will come to slaughter’. “What is up with the sheep stuff? I know sheep songs was one of the episodes but geez…” You mutter, shaking your head as you keep following the searcher further back. 

You keep playing this game of disappear and reappear every time you get closer as you continue to travel. You find a small alcove, seemingly used as a workstation by someone. You click play on the tape sitting on the desk, “I love the quiet, and that’s hard to come by in these busy times. And yeah sure it may stink to high heaven down here. But it’s just perfect for an old lyricist like me. Sammy’s songs always got some bounce, but if I didn’t get away once in a while, they’d never have any words to go with them. So I’ll keep my mind a-singin’ and my nose closed.” It shuts off with a loud click. 

Looking back at the piping you’re standing in you start to get really grossed out. “Why the hell would anyone go to the sewer to write songs? Thank god the ink is more powerful than anything else it seems… Hopefully there wasn’t… anything left in there…” You shake your hands in disgust, really wishing for a shower now. 

The searcher with the hat suddenly pops up startling you and making you fall into the chair. “Geez! You coulda gave me a heart attack!” You clutch your chest. It seems vaguely amused, a faint bubbling sound instead of the moaning. Once you’ve finally gotten your breathing under control you look over him. ‘Why is it a him?’ You ask yourself, realizing it’s probably the hat. It looks around the little alcove and gives a sigh, getting ready to disappear again. 

“Wait, you’re Jack aren’t you?” You surprise both the searcher and yourself, but you can’t shake the feeling you’re right. He hesitates before giving a small nod. “...So not everyone’s like Sammy huh?” He gives another nod, slightly more confident. “...Sorry…” You don’t know why but you felt terrible for this once man now ink creature. He seems unsure of what to make of your statement before gently patting your knee, a few flecks of ink left behind as he withdraws his hand again. 

“You all don’t deserve this- this Hell? I just… I guess I feel bad I can’t do anything for you.” You try to explain. Jack simply shrugs, giving a small moan. You sigh, almost wishing you could understand him, but figuring that meant joining the ink which is the last thing you’d want to do. The two of you sit there in silence only sound being the ink dripping down around you. 

“So uh… Nice hat?” You give a small chuckle trying to make conversation. Jack seems amused by your attempt, giving another bubbly chuckle. “My name is [Name]... And I should probably head back… Sammy might flip out and not let me roam if I suddenly disappeared…” You rub your shoulder. ‘...Wait, why does it matter what Sammy thinks?’ You frown. Jack seems just as curious of your statement as you are. “...I’ll uh, I’ll visit you again. Kinda confined to the music department.” You pat his shoulder as you stand and start heading back. He follows you to the small storage area before the staircase. “See ya later.” You give a small wave and he waves back before disappearing below the ink. 

Climbing back up the stairs you hear the sounds of someone panicking and calling your name. “Here! I’m here.” You call out as you get to the top of the stairs. Sammy who was just about to climb the stairs out of the infirmary visibly sighs in relief as you come back and sit on your cot. 

“You gave me quite a scare little sheep.” He says, coming back over to check on you for any injuries or damage. As soon as his hand is close you bat it away. 

“I’m fine, I’m allowed to roam remember?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“I apologize for jumping to conclusions little sheep, but I feared you had attempted to go elsewhere in the studio to more dangerous locations.” 

“So what, it’s not like it could be any worse further down.” You cross your arms. “Jack was perfectly fine, I don’t see what the problem is with exploring further.”

“Jack is one of the few non-threatening creatures here, he barely retains sentience anyway.” Sammy growls a little. 

“ _Barely?!_ He is fucking sentient! He understood me just fine!” You growl in return, not pleased with this new development. 

“[Name], the music department is the last safe place, further below is only more and more broken and dangerous for someone like you.” 

“Like me?” You frown.

“You are human. You are fragile and breakable. You will die if you attempt to go further.” Sammy stands and looms over you. “Do not think for a second that you are safe, sheep who think like that only get slaughtered.” He jabs a finger at your chest, which you swat away.

“I am not a sheep! I am not fragile! I know I’m not safe!” You stand and start poking his chest back, making him hit the other cot and fall onto it. “I’m not safe because I have _you_ breathing down my neck and trying to get me to join you! I’m not safe because _you are_ keeping me here!” You practically snarl, anger for Jack’s situation, your own situation, and what you are supposed to apparently become from him bubbling up and taking over your thoughts. 

He grabs your wrist and yanks you down, voice quiet, firm, and utterly terrifying, sending chills down your spine. “I am the _only one_ who is willing to keep you safe. _Do not_ attempt to leave or I _will not_ hesitate to sacrifice you to our lord. You’ve been given far more freedom than what many others have been afforded and they have _all_ ended up joining the ink. _Do not think you are special_.” He snarls in your ear, letting you go and standing back up, he starts dragging a desk and chairs over to the stairs down and blocking them off.    


“What the fuck are you doing!” Your voice shakes against your will, body stiff from Sammy’s rant. 

“You will _not_ be seeing Jack again little sheep.” 

“What why?!” 

“You cannot be trusted with your freedom it seems.” He growls, task done he starts heading up the stairs. You attempt to follow but he snaps his fingers, searchers appearing to hold you in place. “So you shall be punished until you know that this is for your own good.” He leaves the infirmary. You hear the sound of crates and chairs scraping against the ground, when it stops the searchers let you go and you run up the stairs, finding the way out of the infirmary blocked. 

“Fuck you! Fuck you and your stupid lord! Let me go!” You shout at Sammy who stares at you just above the blockade. 

“It is for your own good little sheep. Food shall be brought to you later.” He says, tone much more robotic and cold. You shrink back, watching him walk away from you. 

You are alone.

Completely and utterly alone.

Heading back down, wiping your eyes attempting to stifle the flow of tears you curl onto your cot, pulling the blanket over you. Your attempts to stop crying fail as silent sobs wrack your body.

You just want to go home.

* * *

You wake up a few hours later to the slight oozing sound of the ink, tear tracks dried to your cheeks as you rub your eyes and find a searcher setting down a can of soup next to you. You sigh, rolling over away from the can of soup, not wanting to put that foul stuff in your body again. However you feel a poke to your back, looking over the shoulder you see the searcher push the can of soup onto the cot.

“I don’t want it.” You frown, resting your head back down. It doesn’t give up. “Go away, I don’t want it. I’ll eat it later or something.” You growl. It pokes you again causing you to turn back to it. “What!?” You snarl.

It moans, pointing at the can of soup before pointing at you. Getting the gist of it your frown only deepens. “No. I don’t want it. I’m not eating it. Go back to Sammy.” It hesitates, pointing at the can of soup and back to you again. “ _No!_ ” You take the can and chuck it at the wall. Internally you know this is childish and that you really should eat something, but you were just so- so angry. At yourself for coming here, at Sammy holding you here, at Jack’s situation, at Sammy’s punishment. All of your thoughts were of how angry you were. 

Curling up on the cot, staring daggers at the searcher who has gone to fetch the now significantly dented can, tears start coming back. It sets the can on the little table between the two cots before backing up, watching you for a moment. “Go tell Sammy his face is ugly.” You snarl. It moves back before sinking down into the floorboards.  

Alone again. 

You sniffle, rubbing the back of your hand against your face. You decide to go and see Jack. Getting off the cot you look at the blockade that Sammy put up. You carefully remove objects, finding that the desk is surprisingly heavier than you thought, but there’s enough space to crawl underneath it. Once you’re on the stairs you stick your tongue out at the blockade and head down.

Back in the long hallway you curl up in the alcove, head resting against the wall, fingers tracing the fiddle that was resting in there. Jack eventually pops up, you’re too upset to even jump. He gives a quiet moan and rests his hand on your knee.

“...Hey Jack…” You mumble, lightly plucking a string. He moves a little closer, giving another curious moan. “...Sorry… Sam- _The masked bastard_ decided that I was given too much freedom… Put blockades so I couldn’t leave the infirmary.” You set down the fiddle and curl in on yourself a bit more. Jack looks at you, seeming to have a raised eyebrow below the ink. 

“When he first caught me, he told me I was allowed to roam the music studio, but then when I got back from seeing you before he and I got into an argument about the dangers of the studio.” You sigh, leaning your head back and looking back to Jack. “Is it really dangerous down there?”  He nods. 

“How bad? Scale of one to ten.” You’d found a pen and the back of a sheet music page, putting his hand on yours to guide you to make tick marks. When you pull back there’s a total of fifteen. “Jack…” You give a small chuckle, cracking the first smile you had in awhile. “Okay, so it’s dangerous… But, why does he care? It’s not like I’m special. I’m a random nobody that walked in from the streets cause I was too curious for my own good.” 

Jack simply shrugs. 

“...I’m not important… I’m not fragile… I just want to go home, I can’t do anything for you all…” 

Jack puts a hand on your shoulder. 

“...I’m glad you’re here though… You’re the nicest here.” You sigh, eyelids drooping shut. As you fall asleep Jack sits at your side, keeping you upright against the wall. He looks over you curiously, before turning back to watch the ink flow through the old sewer. 

You scrunch your face at the taste of ink that had fallen into your mouth, expression evening out once again as you sleep. 

* * *

“Where’d she go! We’re gonna get in trouble!”

“Shut up, she’ll hear the moaning if you keep this up!” 

Jack startles, the argument of the searchers under Sammy’s control coming closer. He shakes you. “Come on wake up…” You stir, but mumble something incoherent as he shakes you. 

“Kid wake up!” He huffs. You rub your eyes, wondering who’s speaking.

“You hear something?” 

“Yeah it’s over there I think.”

Your eyes widen, were there other humans in the studio? Or other creatures like what Sammy was.

“Kid come on you need to move.” Jack shoves at you. 

“You can talk?” You stare at him, eyes wide, realizing you can clearly hear the voice from the tape coming from him. Jack freezes as well. “Oh no…” 

“There you are!” The shorter searcher speaks first. 

“Come on, you need to go back to the infirmary.” The bigger searcher that was a bit wider starts tugging on your arm. 

“When could you guys speak?!” You pull your arm back as the other two searchers freeze as well. 

“...You can understand us?” Jack asks.

“Yes! And it’s weirding me out! All you guys could do before was moan!” 

“[Name]... Humans can only hear us moan.” Jack gently puts a hand on your knee. 

“Look it doesn’t matter if you can or can’t you need to be in the infirmary.” The shorter searcher shakes his head.

“Why! I’m still technically in it, this place doesn’t have an exit.” You frown. “And Jack… What do you mean humans, I’m a human!” You point at yourself in emphasis of that point. 

“Maybe you swallowed ink? Not enough to change you completely but enough so you can talk to us?” The bigger searcher offers as a solution to what may have happened.

“No I haven’t!” You shake your head, not wanting to believe it. 

“Kid it’s the only way you could have.” Jack sighs. “Look, this is a lot to take in, but just breathe, it might fade away if it was just a small amount.” 

You lean your head back and thump it against the wall. “This place sucks so much.” Each word is a thump.

“We know.” The three of them say at the same time. 

“Come on. You need food.” The bigger searcher gently takes your hand and starts leading you back. This time your stomach growls and you feel your hunger gnaw at you. 

“Alright…” You sigh. “Can Jack come with please?” 

“...I doubt Sam'll find out…” 

“Yeah… I guess it’s fine. Just don’t make a ruckus like you did to poor Molly. She’s not happy about you not eating.” 

“...Sorry.” You wince. As you head up the stairs and back under the desk you find there’s two more searchers up there. Molly you guess is the one that shrinks back from you, the other slightly lankier one moving in front of her.

“So uh… What are all your names?” You ask, figuring to try and reduce the tension. Molly and the other one stare at you like you’ve grown another head. 

“Trent.” The bigger one that was with you says. 

“Vic.” The smaller one supplies.

“Wait she can understand us?” The thin lankier on asks. 

“Yeah I can.” You sigh, sitting on the floor. “I’m guessing you’re Molly?” you look at the one hiding who simply nods. 

“How did… Never mind, this place just keeps doing strange things to people… I’m Logan.” They say. 

“Nice to meet you all?” You wince as your stomach growls. 

“I tried to get her to eat!” Molly squeaks, her voice far too light to belong to anyone older that 10 which makes you internally wince for having yelled at her earlier. 

“She can eat now.” Logan passes the dented soup can to you. “Especially since she has a lot to think about…” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been way too long and I have no excuses. Here is this thing.

Trent, Vic, Logan, Jack, and Molly all are arguing amongst themselves in the opposite corner from you as you slowly eat the soup. You barely wanted to as you were worried that it was somehow contaminated with ink and would only push what happened to you further. You stop after half the can, unable to get the bitter thought out of your head. 

 

“Probably should finish that kid.” Jack sighs as he comes back over. 

 

You curl in on yourself, “Not really hungry...” 

 

“We all heard your stomach kid.” Jack tries to joke a little. All you feel the energy for is a small attempted smile. “I know kid, but you can’t eat nothin’...”

 

“Or you can and just get the process started faster.” Vic says sarcastically, earning a punch from Trent. “Ow hey!”

 

“Come on. We should get back to work, Molly and Logan are the ones supposed to guard her anyway.” Trent sinks through the floorboards before being followed by Vic mimicking him in a higher pitched voice. That gets a small chuckle out of you before you lean your head back against the cot with a heavy sigh. 

 

“You shouldn’t stay either Jack.” Logan says pointedly. 

 

“Sammy can shove it where the sun don’t shine.” Jack fires back, making you snort. 

 

“Why can’t he stay?” You ask as your small grin falls again. 

 

“Sammy will get mad, or well madder...” Molly says. 

 

“What does he have to be mad about! I’m the one trapped here!” You growl. 

 

“Technically we are all trapped here kid, but you’re the only one who is still human.” Jack puts a hand on your knee. 

 

“Right... Sorry...” 

 

“Don’t worry kid, you’re still new here.” He shrugs. 

 

“Sammy controls this territory, normally all that enter are supposed to become searchers like us. For some reason you are getting special treatment, but I doubt it will last long.” Logan huffs. 

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You huff right back. 

 

“It means he likes ya.” Molly supplies. “More than us at least...” She says a little bit sadly. 

 

“I’m not trying to replace anyone, all I want is to go home.” You sigh, getting sick of harping on the same point. Thinking on it, you really question why you want to go home...

 

‘Admittedly... I don’t have tons to go back home to... I mean I live alone, no pets, and my parents haven’t called, let alone sent any cards...’ That thought makes you sigh heavily. ‘All I really have is a few house plants... Even then I’m pretty sure that guy helping me just gave me fake plants to get me out of there faster...’

 

Suddenly an inky hand is waving in front of your face, startling you and making you bump your head against the metal frame of the cot, not incredibly hard, but hard enough to cause you to hiss quietly. 

 

“Ack, sorry kid, you spaced out bad there, something on your mind?” Jack asks. 

 

“No, sorry... well, just... missing home.” You say weakly. “I- I think I’m going to take a nap...” You slowly stand up and climb into the cot, feigning sleep as you close your eyes. 

 

“Let’s give them some space, they’ve been through a lot.” Jack says quietly. 

 

“You could say that from the moment they entered here. But fine, a couple of hours should help.” Logan concedes. 

 

“They didn’t finish the soup...” Molly whispers. 

 

“We can give ‘em a fresh can later, see if we can find more crackers yeah?” Jack says gently. A few moments later you hear them leave the room through the floorboards. 

 

You’re alone again. 

 

‘Just like I’ve been since college... Since I moved here... I can’t even say that anyone at work misses me... What’s it even been? A day? No, probably at least two... I should keep track of this.’ You reach into the drawer between the cots and find a old broken pen, carefully making small tally marks behind the head of your cot before putting it back. ‘At least I won’t forget that... But... What’s to say I haven’t already been forgotten...’ You feel a slight wetness from your eye making you reach up and quickly wipe it away. ‘Get a hold of yourself! You haven’t been here long, there’s still time, someone will put in a police report or something!’ 

 

You start to feel even more tired, eyes slowly drooping closed. ‘Maybe I should nap...’ You sigh before rolling over, pulling the blanket up. 

 

You still feel so alone...

* * *

You feel as if you aren’t alone.

 

It’s dark.

 

Quiet. 

 

Something is out there. 

 

Inky blackness. 

 

Wrong.

 

Something is wrong. 

 

What was that? 

 

It’s coming closer. 

 

Too dark. 

 

Suffocating. 

 

I can’t breathe?

 

Why can’t I breathe?

 

It’s pressing on me. 

 

Darkness all around. 

 

What- 

 

No...

 

It can’t be? 

 

Is it-

 

That smile...

 

It is.

* * *

You wake up with a start, panting hard, you feel sticky, thinking it’s sweat you wipe your brow only for your hand to come back black. Suddenly you realize you aren’t in the cot anymore, you’re on the floor, you move to stand.

 

Except you can’t. You’re already standing. 

 

Your breathing gets faster. 

 

You take another look at your hand. Breathing hitching. 

 

You’re a searcher. 

* * *

You wake up, a strangled scream leaving your throat before you realize you really are awake this time. You check yourself over, but the only thing that is covered in ink on you is your clothes. You’re still you.

 

Suddenly Logan and Molly pop up from the floorboards, startling you badly as you clutch the blanket tightly. 

 

“Are you alright?” Logan asks. 

 

“I- I” You pause, attempting to catch your breath, “Nightmare.” You say weakly, running a hand down your face. 

 

“Oh... Was it him?” Molly asks quietly. You seem to guess easily she meant that smile. 

 

“Bendy is just a cartoon though... It’s weird Sammy wears that mask but-“ You’re quickly cut off. 

 

“Bendy is most assuredly real. But it is not the cartoon character. The Ink Demon.” Logan says quietly, as if just saying his name was enough to bring him here. And something tells you that it is...

 

“Wait... So Sammy’s lord... Is he referring to...”

 

“Yes.” Logan nods. “He believes serving it will give us salvation... Sammy was always... A little eccentric.” 

 

“But how would you know I saw it in my dream?” You turn to Molly. 

 

“...I saw him too... Before I was turned... Lotta nightmares before the ink...” She mumbles. “Most of us had at least one nightmare before it happened.” 

 

You frown, thinking on all of this information. “I think... I need to get out of here more than ever.” 

 

“You’ve already been infected and there is no way back up.” Logan huffs. 

 

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t trust Sammy to not sacrifice me, or it to just show up and do it itself. It’s either take my chances and get out or go down fighting.” You say with confidence but in the back of your mind, those doubts and thoughts of how lonely you are outside back at home swirl like a whirlwind. 

 

“...Either way you go you are likely to die.” Logan says. 

 

“...There is an emergency exit...” Molly says softly. “It’s pretty hidden, I almost got to it before well...” She sighs sadly. “You might be able to get there though? It’s down where Jack was, you’ll have to climb up to the vents in that area, then head straight for three intersections. The exit is at the end of the right path.” She says. You start memorizing the path immediately. 

 

“She’ll never make it.” Logan shakes his head. 

 

“I’m going to make it out.” You say firmly. “I’ll be the one who does it.” You can only hope what you’re saying is the truth. 

 

“I hope you can.” Molly says softly. “You should probably leave now if you are going to try to get out.”

 

You nod, standing up and brushing yourself off. “Thank you... I- I appreciate the help.”

 

“Just get going. The sooner you do the better of a chance you have.” Logan sighs, turning away from you. 

 

“Right... Thank you.” You nod, taking off quickly back down to Jack’s area. 

 

It takes you a few minutes to spot the vent Molly had told you about. You manage to climb in after a struggling for a few minutes more, but once you’re in it’s far easier to move around. 

 

‘Now to get out of here for good.’ 

 

It’s a long trek between intersections you find. Each stretch feels like it takes a good 20 minutes to reach. Making you only more nervous about getting out of there. Especially with how suspiciously quiet it is, it is only making your nerves worse. 

 

Finally at the intersection you need to make your turn at you take the right vent, heading down a seemingly dark section for ages. It almost doesn’t feel like you are going to see light again. It’s not for a while longer that you start seeing a dim light ahead of you. 

 

You pick up the pace, heart racing that this could be it, you could be going home! No more studio! No more ink!

 

The end of the vent lets you out to a large room, directly across from you is a door labeled emergency exit. Your heart flutters in excitement. 

 

It’s almost too good to be true!

 

Suddenly something feels wrong, like you are being watched. Your nightmare on your mind you turn to look behind you. 

 

That terrifying smile comes a little bit closer. 


End file.
